The drunken torpor of existence

 

If you feel all the layers of sorrow spread around, you might feel gutted and minced with wet earth. Or you may see the light of love—sharp, pointed, clear, a shiny spot on the fabric of darkness. A white dot on the blackboard. The blackboard perspective. Or you can have the whiteboard view—feeling the joy that oozes from everything around. The dot of pain on this will be like a tiny dark well that sips little rays, eats them in fact. The whiteness having a black hole; the darkness having a white hole. They sustain each other. We have to accept them.